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Chapter: 18 Egill Skallagrmsson -alt version
Chapter: 18 Egill Skallagrmsson* It took Egill and me almost four weeks to reach his rock. His sub was quite fast, but no submarine could match the speed of a flier. He showed me how to guide the sub, letting me steer it from the helm. Despite being pre-historic, Egill equipped it with a modern up-dated Computronic and a sensor array that would put any current Hunt subs to shame. He told me stories about Earth (Terra) when submarines were used in warfare against other nations and never for hunting fish. He said that during the last great clan wars, many hunting subs were used or altered to attack other subs, but this one was a purpose build craft from that time. The boat was perhaps seventy meters long, and generated power from a small Hydrogen Fusion Plant. It had a small galley and originally had room for a crew of six, but the old man had repurposed those rooms as he did not have a crew, but he had prepared me a bunk in what he called the torpedo room. The boat armament included six torpedo tubes and still had twenty fully-serviced fast missiles ready to launch. These torpedoes carried warhead designed to rip a surface ship/boat or sub into pieces. I asked him what was so traditional about that as it used distance weapons and Off World Tech. He explained that the use of fishing boats and hunting subs came into use because the traditional way of tracking them was so dangerous, many men died each year and the acceptance of subs and boats became accepted with traditions. I snorted at that and told him what I felt about traditions that could be altered when it fit the men and first born but was as rigid and unchangeable when it came to the rights of others. He simply ignored me and told me that during the height of the clan wars, boats were armed and blowing up another clan's boat was a "Thing," and therefore the use of torpedoes and such was perfectly alright. Those men inside the boats were a secondary effect as only the boat, were subject to attack. Again the Elders and Vikings went out of their way to justify something with twisted logic. Egill said that this was the reason full-scaled clan wars became outlawed as the use of off-world tech was getting out of hand. The boat smelled of wet wool, grease, Tyranno oil, and other rather unpleasant organic odors. The favorite hermit answer to most questions was a grunt and a finger pointing to a book. He is definitely not in the same class as the Ancient Keeper, who was sometimes too eloquent in his answers. But the hermit did give me the Old stories and the old poems to read. Then required I recite them back, without reading from the book, unless I became hopelessly stuck. It was part of the ancient challenge to recite from memory one of the ancient poems, and the Elders testing could pick an easy one or a hard one. He told me he would keep it simple, and I would learn all of them. The second part of the Ancient challenge was a test of skill with three selected weapons. He was not satisfied with my skill level and pointing out that there was room for much improvement. He "really," said the I must have had a brain fart, since no one my age should be so bad at weapon handling. He was straightforward in his statements, and I found he used a minimum of words when possible. He let the boat on auto helm every day and required I exercise on the slippery hull in front of the conning tower. More than once I fell, slipped and slide into the water. It took him a while to get the boat stopped and made me catch up instead of turning around. He was not friendly and never had a word of praise. If I started a conversation about my mother or about how he knew my mother, his answer was always the same. "Hit the desk and give me..................", at first 20 push-ups, then 40, then finally 100. He did admit to knowing my mother and that she wanted him to train me. I would not fail her, since it may have been her last wish! I would keep the Holo open and let it repeat the message. No music could have been sweeter to me than my mother's voice. Finally, we reached Skalil Rock . It was a tall, thin pillar of rock sticking out of the ocean at least 50 meters but no more than 20 meters in width at its sea level. His burg melted into the shape of the stone column, one dark gray monolithic-shape against the sky. There was a very narrow quay on one side of that rock with metal bollards were he instructed me to secure the sub with thick Arti-fibrRopes. I thought with disgust about the two-faced no good for nothing elders, that damned modern technology and improvement, but implemented it wherever they found it practical. I would have respected them if they lived what they preached. The hypocritical approach made me think less of them each time I thought about the odd use of technology. The hermit stuck his hand into a breast pocket, pressing something and an open basket suspended on a chain came down the sheer rock wall, and he motioned me to step in. He did as well, and the thing lifted us upward along the almost vertical rock walls of the pillar into a small building sticking like a Kissing fish to the side of a Triple-Finner. The floor of the building sat on four large metal girders, seeming fused into the rock. An electric winch stopped humming, and he said. "That lift is a wonderful thing to keep unwanted guests away." I wondered how many unwanted guests would ever find this place. If you didn't know its exact coordinates, you'd never find it in the vastness of the Nilfeheim ocean. As if he heard my thoughts he said. "If you are long enough at the same place they find you. Those who think I have answers or would use my influence to change the decision of the Elders. Besides I don't care if they know where I am, so long as they cannot get to me." I wondered how he knew what I was thinking about, but then he probably just kept explaining to me why he had this lift. His burg consisted of only one house that built into the upper section of the pillar. Like the boat, it was a horrible mess, books, rotting leather, wool, and dirty dishes piled up everywhere. I had initially thought the boat was the worse smell around, well not so, the air here was even fouler than aboard the boat. He barked, "So it offends you, well you are welcome to eliminate the order at your pleasure. On second thought, that will be your first duty." He guessed what I was thinking about seeing my face. "Well, I don't mind cleaning the place a little. Do you have cleaning supplies?" He shrugged. "If I do I don't remember, where they are right now. There is a small landing area on top that has a flier. You have permission to shop in Isen and get what you need." I looked around and found the narrow stairs. Its rails covered with incredibly dirty rags and laundry. As I climbed them, he yelled, "While you're there pick up something to eat, some tea and a bottle of good Vodka or two. Don't take any of that swill they will try to pass off on to you." After leaving the ground floor and climbing the spiral staircase the trash became less and the air better, but judging by the finger-thick dust, no one had been up here in ages. The flier was indeed there, a small two-seater with a tiny cargo area. It too was thickly coated with gray dust. Only because the Olafson clan didn't believe in updating tech, I knew the object in the back was a power cube built before the discovery of Point-Zero technology, That Nuco-Bat was ancient when my 400 hundred-year-old Instructor was in his crib. Surprisingly according to the indicator, it held twenty percent power, and that was plenty to take that thing twenty times around the planet. A rusty winch opened a side of the Tower, no electric motor there, and after checking the Arti grav and the on Board Computronic, I took the think out. The Arti Grav worked fine but its propulsion unit, two ducted turbines sputtered until a lodged dirty sock or something similar came loose going south in a trail of dust. I had never been to Isen Landsby. I simply knew it existed and was Nilfeheim's second largest town (there was a third one, so I heard, on the Five clan Island Cluster to the East). Using the directional data transmitted by Nilfeheim Radio, I was confident I would find it. The flier was open, and the temperature was dropping. I wished I had a warm coat, but I found the heater and ducked behind the windshield. I had left open water behind me and was now flying over the permanent ice of our south pole. Unlike on the North Pole where the sun surprisingly did not leave the sky during short summer, here it never came up past the horizon, and it was dark and bitter cold. Isen appeared. It was an island of light in the featureless ice plain. The buildings sat on stilts buried in the ice, connected by metal walkways and bridges also on stilts. There several staircases to the ice to moored sleds. Metal platforms and hand railings surrounded most buildings. And masts with light elements everywhere. The town looked like a festive lit Yule log from the air. I did see fliers and power sleds but what surprised me most to see men riding Fangsnappers! I landed the flier next to the lid sign of a flier service station. A man in blue coverall, without no beard, came out of the lit entrance, crunched over the thin layer of snow that covered the metal grading of this platform and spit a wad of gum over the railing. "Dang me a Lip! It's a real genuine Vanderstream Open Top in good condition and original paint" He pulled a rag from his pocket and wiped across the fliers manufacture plate. "Never thought in a thousand Longnights to see one on this Ice cube of a Planet. Do you want to sell it? "Sorry Sir, It isn’t mine, I am just using it, but I wondered if you can check the propulsion turbines. Something seems stuck in it, and the left one is sparking and wheezing." "Sure thing I take a look at it." "Is there a place I can buy supplies?" "Yes sure. We got a few stores. You walk across that suspension bridge over there, pass the Swine and Dine, and you are at Silver Hawk's Emporium. They got most of the things you probably need." He didn't ask me where I came from or who I was. I followed his instructions but stop when I arrived at the Swine and Dine. I wondered if Annar was already working here, except being suspended on stilts over ice, it looked exactly like the one in Halstaad Fjord, complete with a mechanical pig. This one wore a cover of snow in addition to his costume. I decided to stop here first. The place was well heated, and I realized I was colder than I thought. The costumed employee behind the counter in the otherwise nearly empty restaurant greeted me the usual way, and I placed an order and then said. "Would you know if a guy named Annar works here? "We are not allowed to give out names of our employees. We all go by the name Arthur Swine." I shrugged and took my order. "It was a long shot anyway." I took a seat and stared out the window, but I saw one of the costumed employees come over. "Annar saw you on the Visual security and will be right out. Sure enough, Annar came a few moments later, wearing black pants, and a red and white striped Shirt. He did not wear a swine mask or coveralls. I barely recognized him because he had his hair cut very short and cleanly shaven. "Wow didn't think I would see you out here. How are things?” He sat down tugged at his pants as he did so and if it weren't for the fact that I recognized his face and eyes, I would have never guessed him to be Annar." Things could be better, but I am not at the Burg which is good." "I am Restaurant manager here now, and as you see, I got my new uniform." "Aren't you going to be ridiculed or harassed after cutting your hair and wear that costume ?" "No one down here cares much about who you are or from where you came. The residents merely figure you have a reason for being here freezing your ass off. There aren't many high clans around here. A Freemen founded this place as none of the clans wanted to settle on the permanent ice. They are very rugged down here, but so long as you don't ask questions, they don't either." "Doesn't sound too bad." "No, sure doesn't. Our little Supermarket carries more off world stuff than the stores at Halstaad, and no one raises an eyebrow if you buy it." "That's where I need to go next." "Get yourself a snapper coat or something. It gets real cold here, Longnight or not." I ordered the triple ribs again and enjoyed them as Annar, and I caught up on things common to each other. After promising to return, I made it to the Silver Hawk without problems. They had small wheeled carts for customer use. They said to just leave it in one of the marked stalls located along the walkways. I thank them as I remembered seeing the places when I parked the flier. The cart loaded with Cleaners, mops brooms buckets and gallons of Cleaners as well as a portable Nanite recycler and an inflatable Washing machine. I had also filled a cart with an assortment of dried foods. I knew the space on the flier was limited, and the cleaning supplies were first. But I did remember to get a big warm coat. I was going to be cold on the trip back. The flier now was clean, fully charged and the turbines whispered like new. My credit strip had paid for it all, and there was plenty of credits left. Although getting dark, I knew I could make my way back to the pillar burg. I almost missed the tall rock in the darkness but turned around as it passed to the left and landed. The old man was sitting in a shabby chair. At first, I thought he was dead, but he raised his head as I appeared and handed him a big bag of TripleRibs and a soft drink. "He grunted and unwrapped a burger. "Did you get the Vodka?" "It was not as easy. The clerk insisted upon an adult, and would not sell it to me as I needed to be of age to get Alcohol. I mentioned it to the guy who fixed the flier, who went with me back to get it for you." I placed the bag with the two jugs before his feet. He glared at it. "You sure like to talk and explain things that do not need explanation. All I asked if you got it. A simple yes would have been enough." I nodded. "Well open one and pour some in that sweet throat glue you brought along with that Off World Garbage food ." After he had me dump half of the coke and replace it with the strong smelling clear liquid, he sighed happily munching on his third Rib Burger . He was no different than the other elders. Condemning Off-World on one hand and stuffing his belly with burgers." "He held up the almost finished Burger. Even Earthers on Terra think that this food is Garbage. It is called Junk Food for over 3000 years for a reason! The reason it is still around because it is so darn good! Now don't let me stop you. Start cleaning. The smell is still the same!" I had no idea how many days I scrubbed, gathered, washed and cleaned. At first, it seemed I would do that for the entire three months I was supposed to be here. I had made six or seven trips to the Shops buying a second and a third washing machine. Getting more cleaning agents and burning a mountain of garbage every day in his small yard, the Nanite garbage recycler was merely overwhelmed by the sheer volume. But finally, I had reached the last room in his building and sorted the clean laundry. Onto a long rack, I had made of ropes and boards. He had not spoken much in the entire time only to tell me to throw something out I was cleaning. "Don't clean it. Get rid of it!" He stood in the door and lifted his nose."Smells real fancy now, won't you agree?" "Yes, it might be considered an improvement." "I am not sure if I should now start training you or tell you I got a big basement, no one has tried to clean in ages, and the boat needs cleaning too!". Category:Fragments - Eric Olafson